These Things That Heal
by LoveIsATemple
Summary: Months after saving Caroline Forbes from a werewolf bite, Klaus finds the tables have suddenly turned when he ends up needing the baby vampire to rescue him. (AU) (Three-shot sequel to *When The Bleeding Stops*)
1. Security Breach

**A/N: **Yes! Two and a bit months after When The Bleeding Stops and we finally get our _Later_. Maybe I should be working on my incomplete, full-length fics, but I'm on vacation until mid-January, so I've got some time to relax and this story has been fun to write.

This is going to be a three-shot, filled with adventure and blossoming love. Unlike in When The Bleeding Stops, These Things That Heal will be told mostly from Klaus' POV, with a portion in part three switching to Caroline's. It takes place a few months after the completion of When The Bleeding Stops, just in case anybody is curious. Other than a few curse words here and there (and an extremely mild, was-that-really-a-sex-scene sex-scene in the next chapter) there's nothing outrageously obscene to be warned against.

I have no beta, so expect mistakes! Also, I'm not the biggest TO follower. This means I've probably gotten either facts, personalities, or places completely muddled, but I've tried my best to research everything I've been unsure about. Please keep in mind that this is one-hundred percent an AU story!

I have no updating schedule either, and the completion of this story depends on when I get around to editing the next two parts. I am sorry about that. Really.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! Promise.**

Okay, I think that's enough of me rambling. Without further ado, I give you the first chapter of _These Things That Heal_.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One:<strong>

**Security Breach**

* * *

><p>He'd reluctantly become familiar with the foetus he'd created growing inside of Hayley. Maybe he'd never truly appreciated Hayley, but somehow, in some strange way, he admired the calmness with which she carried his—no, wait...<em>their<em>—child.

And then the baby wasn't there anymore. The kicks stopped.

Hayley had come to him, sobbing. She'd never wanted this. The only reason she'd slept with him in the first place, allowed him to fling her over that table and mindlessly fuck her, was because she wanted to make Tyler jealous and she needed someone to cure her of an aching need. Same as the only reason he even paid attention to her in the end was because he didn't have a particular blonde vampire there to stroke his ego.

They didn't care about each other, but there was no denying the connection they shared. It wasn't some deep, profound thing. He still couldn't stand her. Her voice was winey and she was always butting her head places it didn't belong. But together they'd created life. And that was strange, considering he was as dead as they come.

Their child was the only thing that kept him from tearing her head from her shoulders. Even though in the thousand odd years he'd been on the earth he'd never wanted a baby, what king would turn down the possibility of having an heir?

When he saw her, blood dripping down her thighs and a wild, terrified look in her eyes, he knew what had happened. Before she opened her mouth, he knew.

There was no future king or queen of New Orleans—of the _world_—any longer.

Hayley had packed up her bags that night. Wiped her legs and kissed Elijah's cheek before running off into the unknown. New Orleans was never hers anyhow. She never belonged with them.

He felt her loss, though. It crept on his shoulders as the days passed.

But he didn't miss _her_. He missed only what she represented. What she held within the confines of her belly.

His chance at finally taking over this ruddy city.

Maybe it was cruel of him to think of his own child as a bargaining chip, but Niklaus Mikaelson was nothing if not cruel. And homicidal. And unlovable. But that's what the baby was. An upper hand. A chance to break through Marcel's walls and take control.

Deep—deep, deep, _deep_—down, Klaus questioned if he did miss the child. _Truly_ miss it. Miss it like any normal human would.

Perhaps he did, but even Caroline Forbes wasn't going to get him to dig that far into his gut.

He'd told her as much, each time she attempted to ruin their days by asking how he was doing. How he was coping. Whether or not he was grieving yet.

Apparently she knew all about grieving.

He remembered those few months ago when Stefan had called him. He'd been chatting with Camille then, hadn't he?

He hadn't seen Camille in a few months. Not that he'd been looking. He wondered if she'd left town. Been rebuffed one too many times, the appearance of Caroline Forbes too much for her human heart to handle.

He didn't miss her. Not like he thought he would. He had his blonde now, his _true_ blonde. The blonde that rescued him without either of them realising it. The blonde that cleaned his home with her bare feet tucked beneath her bottom, arms jerking as she scrubbed the disgusting floors upon which he'd killed so many innocents. So many _evils._

She would sense him watching her most times and peek at him over her shoulder, a too-kind smile dancing over her mouth. That mouth he didn't get to kiss enough. Because he was so afraid of his own anguish. So afraid he'd lose her again.

Seeing her lying half-dead on the Salvatore's sofa, veins blackening against awfully pale skin, had awoken some uncontrollable emotion from its slumber inside of him. He didn't want to see her die. He couldn't allow that to happen. And God, in that moment he felt so utterly _weak_. When did he allow her so much control over him?

Ha, he knew exactly when. The moment she'd screeched at him for harming Tyler while his sister held her back. The first time he'd really gotten to hear her voice.

And he'd manipulated her countless times. Kidnapped her, _bitten _her. Held her and her loved ones ransom. And yet here she was, with him. She slept in his bed. She kissed his cheeks. His lips, when he'd allow it.

She hadn't run yet. It didn't seem as if she'd ever run.

He couldn't decide if he loved her for that, or if he hated her for it.

She still had the scar. He'd seen it, once. By accident. After he'd walked in on her, naked from the waste down. Normally the sight would have turned him on, excited him, but his eyes found the bunched skin immediately and he'd walked away before she could feel embarrassed about him having seen her. Before he could scamper off to find the wolf that had harmed her and tear it to shreds.

Of course, his wolf side had harmed her as well. Hadn't it? Ripped a piece of her flesh away from her neck. The neck he so often found himself staring at, because he so desperately wanted to kiss it.

But that was different. It had to be.

Then, all those years ago, he hadn't really know her. He was infatuated with her, jealous of her bond with the Lockwood boy. And he bit her, only out of spite.

But he hadn't let her die. And maybe that _was_ weak of him. But she'd always been his weakness. He was beginning to see that now.

Why else would he have travelled so far, so fast, just to save her life?

Did he love her? Was _that _love? Saving someone helpless to save themselves?

Was that why she was here? Because she loved him, and he was helpless to save himself?

He never spoke to her of these things. They were too personal. And it didn't matter that she'd completely packed up her good life in Mystic Falls just to come to him. That was her own fault. He was protecting himself by keeping a safe distance from her. If he allowed himself to give into her allure and bright smiles, her inquisitive looks and lustful stares, then she'd be able to crush him. Completely.

He never promised he'd talk. He never promised her anything.

_Liar!_ a voice shrieked at him.

He'd promised her so much. Too much.

He promised her the world, at one point. When he didn't yet know that she would be his downfall _and_ his saving grace.

He promised her he'd never hurt her, when he thought saying those things might get her to look at him without the hatred that burned so bright in her eyes when she caught his monstrous gaze.

He promised her he'd never come back.

He promised he'd love her for all time.

He promised her _later._

How many of those promises had he broken?

Probably all of them.

Because he was a king, and kings were notorious liars.

And he was old. And tired. And he'd lost his reason to keep fighting.

* * *

><p>"How's it going?"<p>

"Um…it's okay. I think."

"You think?"

"He's—he's not talking."

"At all?"

"No, he talks. Sometimes. But not about anything…important."

Klaus stood motionless outside his bedroom. The door was closed. Locked, he assumed.

Caroline was in there, chattering to Stefan Salvatore. About him.

He stepped marginally closer to the wooden frame, refraining from pressing his ear against the door.

"Are you regretting going there?"

Klaus would never admit it, least of all to himself, but his breath lodged in his throat, stubbornly unmoving, as he heard Stefan's concerned voice asking Caroline the question he repeatedly wished he could ask himself.

He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to hear her answer.

"No, of course not. It's going to take a lot more than a brooding Original to make me wish I hadn't come. Besides, Elijah's been accommodating enough."

Klaus let out an unnecessary gasp. Relief spiked his blood at Caroline's admittance, though another jab of jealousy hit him as well. Damn his brother and his Old World charm.

He ignored the jealousy in favour of the positive, just for a moment.

She wasn't going to leave him.

_(Yet.)_

And he couldn't describe how happy that made him. Because he needed her there, even if she didn't know it. He needed her to stay, to keep him warm in the dark even as he refused to wrap himself around her body during the night.

"Then what's the matter?" He heard Stefan ask, the nosy bastard.

Caroline sighed behind the door, and he heard her start pacing. She always paced.

"I need him to start talking. I can see he's upset. Hurt, even. And I can't help him heal if he doesn't talk to me."

Klaus backed away from the door, quickly and silently, acid falling into his stomach. Caroline had never seemed to mind his refusal to talk. She would ask a question, he'd ignore it, and then she'd smile.

And he'd smile back.

Perhaps his smile was not the only one that was full of emptiness.

"It's only been a few months, Caroline. He's suffered a lifetime of pain. It'll take a little while to get him to open up. Don't give up on him."

Klaus hated that Stefan was speaking of his sorrows. As if he knew anything about them.

He hated that Caroline had called him to ask for advice. He hated that she was now agreeing with the Salvatore, saying, "Yes, I understand. But I wish he would hurry up and get over his pride so I can help him."

_Get over his pride_?

Pride?

Niklaus Mikaelson was a lot of things, but he'd never thought of prideful as one of them.

No, the Lockwood boy was prideful. Damon was prideful.

_He_ was cynical, and evil, and he had been known to possess a slightly inflated ego, but he stayed well away from pride.

Pride only ended up hurting everyone. It always led to turmoil.

He was not prideful.

He just didn't want Caroline to see him _weak_. At least not anymore than she already had. And opening up, something he'd never been very good at anyway, was one of the worst forms of vulnerability. It displayed a person's fragility. Made them appear damaged.

He crept closer to the door, wanting to hear Stefan's reply. Would the Ripper correct Caroline?

"What are you doing, Niklaus?"

Klaus startled at the intrusive sound of Elijah's voice. He turned around.

"I was about to go into my room," he covered quickly. He frowned. "Why do you ask?"

"You've been standing out here suspiciously for the last five minutes. I was concerned," Elijah said.

Klaus sneered at his older brother. "How would you know?"

"Do not act childish, Niklaus. A cleaner saw you. She told me when I asked where you were."

Klaus wanted to immediately snap the neck of whichever cleaning person it was who'd ratted him out, but as he started to move away from his bedroom, Elijah grabbed ahold of his arm and tugged him back.

"What?" He snarled.

"Calm down," Elijah ordered. "We must talk. It's urgent."

Klaus looked at his bedroom door out of the corner of his eye and wondered what could possibly be more urgent than listening to the conversation going on inside, but nonetheless allowed Elijah to guide him downstairs and into the dining room.

"What's so important?" Klaus demanded as Elijah let him go.

Elijah looked around the room. At the pictures lining the walls. He seemed nervous.

"Spit it out!"

"It is Marcel," Elijah said gently.

Klaus raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What about him?" He hoped the man he once thought of has his protégé had perished gruellingly.

"He has…been made aware of Caroline's existence."

Klaus blinked away the redness threatening to cloud his vision. His blood boiled in his veins.

"Who the FUCK told him!" Klaus shouted before he could help himself. Upstairs the pacing ceased.

Klaus heard his bedroom door open and knew Caroline would soon be in the room with them. Sure enough, not two seconds later, Caroline's small frame flashed inside the dining room.

"What's happened?" She asked, dressed in her flimsy pyjamas. He had forgotten the day had only just begun.

Klaus saw her phone in her hand and contemplated snapping it. Just to teach her a lesson about discussing him behind his back to people who held no right to have any opinion about him.

But he refrained. Because he was beyond angry, and he was afraid he might end up hurting her more than he already had in the years since their paths crossed.

Klaus didn't wait for Elijah to answer Caroline's question.

"Well?" He barked, noticing his whole body begin to shake. He grabbed the back of a chair and held on tight.

Elijah cleared his throat, unamused by Klaus' outburst. "We do not know, and I do not think it matters. Niklaus, he has begun to make threats. Thinly veiled threats."

Threats.

The word zipped around Klaus' mind as dizziness took hold.

"Klaus, what's going on?"

It was Caroline. He felt her hand encapsulate his wobbling shoulder.

No. This wasn't happening. No harm could come to her. He'd only just gotten her. They hadn't had enough time.

But now his enemy _knew_.

"How much does he know about her?" He growled, ignoring Caroline.

She didn't speak again. She simply thumbed his shoulder until he stopped trembling.

Christ, he really was weak.

"He knows she is here," Elijah informed him. "_Has_ been here for some time. I do not know how much of your history he is aware of."

Elijah looked between him and Caroline, and Klaus could see the sad concern in his brown eyes.

"Klaus," Caroline said, his name sounding so beautiful falling from her sweet mouth. "What's wrong?"

"You should tell her, brother," Elijah said, serious. Grave.

Klaus knew he should listen to Elijah. He should tell her. Not just about Marcel, but about _everything_.

But he shook his head. "No. It doesn't concern you," he said without looking at her. Caroline removed her hand from his shoulder and he felt cold all of a sudden, a stark contrast to the heated rage he'd been experiencing nanoseconds ago.

"Niklaus, this concerns her more than it concerns any of us," Elijah scolded.

"No!" Klaus snarled. "It's concerns me. Me and Marcel, and this stupid feud! We do not need to bring her into this! I won't allow it."

Elijah opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by an enraged scream.

Both Mikaelson's looked at its source, wide-eyed.

Caroline had gone red in the face, her fists balled at her sides in anger. "Somebody tell me what the hell is going on _right now_, or I swear to _God_ I'll pack up my suitcase and head back to Virginia!"

Klaus had to give Caroline credit. She always was so very good at making him do things he didn't want to do. At manipulating him. He'd always known she possessed great amounts of strength, but she seemed to surprise him at every turn.

"My enemy," Klaus began slowly. He was seething. Shaking once again. "_One _of my enemies has recently discovered that you exist, and that you are here, with me, in New Orleans."

He saw his beautiful baby vampire gulp. "Is that a bad thing?"

Klaus nearly laughed. But the situation was too serious to be mocked.

"Honestly?" He checked, making sure she knew what she was getting herself into. She'd been a part of supernatural wars before, but Marcel wanted blood. He wanted victory. And he would stop at nothing to get it. His goal was to obliterate Klaus, and Caroline was a direct line to his black soul. Without her, now that he had her (even if he didn't really _have her_), would kill him. Destroy him wholly.

Things had gotten worse since Klaus arrived and declared war. Marcel's bloodlust seemed to increase daily.

"Of course," Caroline said firmly. "Tell me." She was looking right at him, her watery blue eyes full of hurt most likely inflicted upon her by him.

She must care for him on some level. How else would he be able to harm her without so much as touching her?

"He wants to capture you," Klaus said softly, as if speaking quieter would staunch the graveness of his words. "And then—then he wants to kill you."

He watched Caroline's eyes blossom. "Why?" She gasped.

_Because I love you_.

"Because…you are important to me," Klaus said.

Caroline took a staggering step in his direction. He was used to seeing her brave. Fighting. Only four times in the years they'd known each other had he witnessed her hard exterior falter. This marked the fifth.

"What do we do?" She asked, careful not to touch him. He wished she would. Break the rules he'd given to her without using pointless words, and coil herself around him. He didn't care that Elijah was with them, he needed to keep her safe. And if touching her—holding her—meant that he could protect her, he would allow it.

Elijah started speaking, "Niklaus and I—"

"—No," Klaus interrupted. He turned to face his brother. His big brother. His voice of reason. "I'll take Caroline somewhere safe. Just me and her. Just for a little while. Then I'll come back, and we can take down Marcel."

"Klaus, I can help—"

Klaus whipped his head around. "—Caroline, I need to keep you safe. Marcel is dangerous."

"So are you," she said, and he winced, because she'd said it so fast.

"I would never intentionally—" but he stopped himself from finishing the sentence. _I would never intentionally harm you. _

He already had intentionally harmed her. Countless times. Whether through an attack on her friends, or a straight forward attack on her.

How on earth did she find it in herself to trust him? He wouldn't trust him. If he were her.

"Caroline," he breathed, moving closer. He took one of her hands in both of his, like he had done after she'd helped rid his mind of Silas. He'd been desperate and sweaty then too. Caroline looked up at him, brows pulled together. "Please."

Caroline studied him for a moment. Klaus thought he heard Elijah leave in a puff of smoke, but he was too focused on the blonde in front of him to pay much attention. Her eyes followed every line and curve of his face. She moved to his neck, his chest, until she reached his feet.

Her eyes found his again. They were gentler this time.

"Okay," she said, and he exhaled sharply. He knew she'd resent him for asking her to run. Caroline Forbes was a warrior, but he wasn't prepared to send her into battle. Not against Marcel. "Where do we go?"

Klaus thought for a moment, contemplating which property he had acquired over the years would be safest. An idea fell over him.

Gently, so the walls couldn't hear, he said to her, "Maine."


	2. Sanctuary

**Chapter Two:**

**Sanctuary**

* * *

><p>Marcel's newest hideout wasn't as heavily guarded as he thought it would be. Klaus slipped inside without any trouble, which only set his suspicions aflame. Absently, the thousand-year-old hybrid prepared himself for a fight.<p>

Elijah had warned him not to find Marcel. To take Caroline and go. Immediately. No pit stops. But he'd never been good at listening to other people, and he really wanted to snap Marcel's neck. So, he'd sent Caroline upstairs to pack her things and then flown off to speak with his number one enemy. He hoped he'd be back before she noticed he was missing.

Dawn followed him as he entered the creaky wooden structure. Sun beams slammed into his back, increasing his agitation. Though he'd long ago forgotten the painful bite of sunlight, a vampire (half of one that he was) never did quite get used to the feeling of rays grazing their body, clothed or unclothed.

The home changed in appearance once he began travelling its hallways. Outside it seemed old and desolate, but inside the walls were painted dark greys and blues. The wooden floors shone underfoot. Paintings of Louisiana landscapes and photographs famous destinations hung on the grim walls, giving the whole surrounding area a lighter appeal.

He didn't trust this place one bit.

Straining his ears, Klaus listened for any sign that he was not alone in the house. He could near nothing, not even the sound of his dead heartbeat.

Unease slunk into his head, making it buzz uncomfortably. He severely disliked the scenario he'd wandered into.

Kol—rest his soul—had often forced Klaus to sit down and watch horror flicks on the telly. Once he'd managed to get Klaus out of whichever house it was they were staying in at the time and had dragged him to a theatre. Kol insisted on purchasing a large tub of popcorn and a few packets of sweets, spending the majority of the film flirting with a girl sitting near them and laughing at the reactions of the humans in the crowd as blood and intestines met their eyes.

Klaus, on the other hand, had always payed attention. Each time Kol pulled him to the sofa Klaus' eyes remained stuck to the screen. Despite being a vampire—an old one at that—he found he rather enjoyed the entertainment. They were easy enough to laugh at, but Klaus was somewhat in awe of the movies and their subject matter.

Romances were never for him. Nor were adaptations of sci-fi novels. But horror movies he could get behind.

Here, in Marcel's creaky mansion, he was glad for his strange attraction to the genre. For he knew that just around the corner would be an army awaiting him. Because this was the start of the rising action, and blood had yet to be shed.

"Klaus, how nice of you to join us," came Marcel's taunting, arrogant voice as Klaus stepped into a large and bleak room.

Surrounding Klaus on all sides were groups of soldiers, organised to appear jumbled and out of place. But Klaus knew better than to believe the men were not lined up exactly where they were needed. Marcel was cunning and clever, a-thousand-and-one plans sticking out of his back pocket, ready to be pulled and put in place at any time.

Klaus almost wished he hadn't taught the young vampire so well.

He held up his hands.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he said.

He was surprised to find that it wasn't a lie. But it wasn't, because he was too concerned about Caroline to even consider harming Marcel.

He needed to get back to her as soon as he could, take her away from this place. Protect her.

"Now, can you tell me why I don't believe you?" Marcel countered, smiling like the smug bastard he was.

The confidence in his voice maddened Klaus. Made his blood bubble within his veins.

Klaus looked around the room again. He raised his eyebrows, a slow smirk lifting the right side of his face.

"You've got too many men for me, Marcel," he said, his smirk steadily transforming into a snarl.

What he wouldn't give to go over there and rip Marcel's head from his shoulders. To bathe in the gore spilled from his lifeless body. To triumph in great victory and finally crown himself king of New Orleans.

_Caroline, _he thought with a small tremble.

He would not give Caroline.

The thought of her, of her golden hair and bright, sad blue eyes, sobered him, and he calmed his bloodlust for a moment longer.

Marcel stepped forward from the crowd, almost as if he expected them to battle. Right there, now. But he took only one step, his heavy, boot-covered feet pounding against the floorboards, sending shockwaves through the old, silent house.

"What are you here for then," Marcel questioned, eyes scanning Klaus's stiff body, "if not to try to kill me?"

Klaus did not miss Marcel's usage of the word _try_. Anger rose in his bones, but he pushed it away.

_Later_, he kept telling himself.

But he feared _later_, because he did know when it would strike. And he dreaded Caroline being there, holding him, loving _him_, of all the sick, deprived monsters in the universe, when his anger resurfaced.

"You know why I am here," Klaus said firmly, warning dripping from his tongue.

Marcel's eyes glowed with humour and accomplishment, and the desire to scratch them until he was blinded nearly overwhelmed Klaus.

"Ah, yes." Marcel nodded his head, pressing his hands together beneath his chin and resting the underside of his jaw against his fingertips. A devilish smile crept upon his lips. "_Caroline_."

The word sounded so absolutely _wrong_ flowing from Marcel's mouth. Klaus mindlessly stepped forward, his face coiled in disgust and rage. Black veins slithered underneath his eyes. His fangs dropped, eyes gleaming yellow. He took three more steps, his right arm lifting with each pound of his feet, gearing up to grab at Marcel's throat, until he stopped, feeling a gust of wind at his back. Dropping his arm, he noticed the whole of the room had moved with him. All of the soldiers were now packed tighter, circling him and Marcel.

He was outnumbered. He hated to admit it, but he _was_. Because his sticky _emotions _were getting the better of him. He could not fight, blinded by these foul things.

And it was not time. Marcel still had precious hours to live, dead man that he already was.

Marcel dropped his arms, shifting to cross them over his chest. He tilted his head slightly to one side. Like a father come to reprimand his child. "You can't hurt me here, Niklaus," he trilled delicately. Looking away from him for a moment, Marcel jerked his head at his men. "Grab him."

Klaus heard the words. _Grab him_. He saw Marcel motion his thick skull in his direction, indicating it was _him _the henchmen needed to _grab_. But he did not move. Did not put up a fight when two sets of slimy hands clasped around his wrists and tugged him viciously away from Marcel's conceited half-smile.

He set his mouth in a grim line, lowered his eyebrows—morphed his face into a glower.

Marcel's minions stopped and tightened their grips on his arms. He so badly wanted to rip away from them. Run for Marcel, gouge out his heart for speaking Caroline's name.

Closing his eyes, Klaus took in a lungful of air. That was one habit from his human life he still used to calm himself. It did not matter whether or not his blood or his brain required the breath, he found that steady breathing relaxed him.

Klaus released the strain he held on his muscles, going limp in the guard's arms as Marcel stepped in front of him. Though the vampire was mere centimetres taller than him, Klaus felt as though he was a mouse in the presence of a lion.

"Yes," he said darkly, "let's talk about _Caroline_. Tell me, how did you two meet?"

Klaus did not speak. He was barely able to contain his fury, and opening his mouth would only release the savage roar building in his chest.

Marcel took a single step back and clasped his hands behind his back. "Don't answer that. I know how you two met. I know how quickly you _fell in love _with her, Klaus. How hard it was for you to walk away from her and come here," Marcel revealed, hate drooling out of his mouth and eating away at the hardwood floors.

How had it come to this? Were he and Marcel not great friends once? Did he not place Marcel above his own brother all those years ago?

This game had been fun in the beginning. It helped him forget about the beautiful woman he'd abandoned in Mystic Falls. But now it was a full-blown war. With casualties and a singular outcome: one of them must die.

And, at the moment, as terrifying as the thought was, Klaus did not know which would be the one to perish.

"I know how many times you tried to kill her, then felt so bad about it that you just had to save her," Marcel continued, and Klaus wanted to know, desperately _needed to know_ who had given him all of this information. "I know that you went back there, once, and swore you'd never return if she gave herself to you. And I know that you broke that promise. Went to Virginia when you discovered she was hurt to save her life and that when you returned to your former kingdom, heartbroken because the one woman you loved didn't want you anymore, Hayley lost the child."

Marcel's voice was getting increasingly mocking. He seemed to get great joy out of seeing Klaus squirm as his men held the hybrid down.

Klaus kept on taking subtle breaths, shutting his eyes for milliseconds at a time just to quell the fire licking his belly, the smoke lodging in his throat.

"And, oh, do I know that she came here for you. And do you want to know how I figured it out?" Marcel hissed, snapping his fingers.

Klaus perhaps expected someone to come behind him and twist his neck until everything burst to black, but instead he watched as a door opened into the room and a man—a vampire, smelling of fresh blood—hurried in, a weary girl in his hold.

All of the blood in Klaus' veins drained.

Marcel's smile widened, showing off his glinting canines. He walked toward the man and his prisoner, taking the girl himself before returning to Klaus, Camille's pale head resting against his shoulder. She blinked at Klaus, her eyelids fluttering slowly, her pupils blacking out the irises of her pale blue eyes.

_Compulsion_.

The word thudded in Klaus' mind.

But how would Camille have known all of those things? He definitely had not spoken to her of Caroline. Well, maybe once or twice, but never in such fine detail.

"You see," Marcel said, stroking Camille's hair out of her eyes. She blinked hazily again, as if the darkness in her eyes was a film and she was hopelessly trying to flick it away. "Caroline and Camille bonded her first night in the city. When Caroline decided you weren't going to talk, she sought out Camille. Of course, your dear Caroline did not know how badly this pretty thing here wanted you. But Camille's a psychologist first, isn't she? So she listened and listened as Caroline told her _everything_. Isn't that right, Cami?"

Klaus moved his blurry focus to Camille. She nodded at him blankly and he noticed dotted scars running the length of her neck.

He was too angry at Marcel to be angry at anybody else. Even Camille, the girl who'd been following him around like some lost puppy dog since he came to the city. The girl who was the sole reason his entire life was flashing before his tired eyes.

The sole reason Caroline might die.

"Is that why you liked Cami here so much, Klaus?" Marcel asked, pulling Klaus from his dire thoughts. The hybrid felt his calm façade starting to slip. "Because she looks like your beloved Caroline?"

Klaus found himself saying "Stop it" before he could help himself.

Marcel's lips twitched. "Stop what? I'm right, aren't I? Blue eyes, blonde hair, skin as pale as ivory. You got pretty close with Camille, Klaus. She's _just quite _not as stunning as Caroline."

Klaus' jaw tightened as Marcel's words reached him.

Not only did Marcel _know everything_, he'd _seen _her. He'd _watched _Caroline. _Studied _her. Been close enough to her that he knew her the colour of her breathtakingly blue eyes.

Without thinking of his original plan, Klaus wrenched his arms free from Marcel's men. He lunged for Marcel, not caring that he still held Camille by his side. But before his aching fingers could wrap around the vampire's exposed throat, Klaus crashed to the ground under the weight of a dozen bodies. He scrambled to free himself from the manmade cage, fear rising like bile in his throat, but it seemed the more he moved the more the soldiers swelled on his back until his ribs, his jaw, his neck snapped under the pressure.

Then, everything burst to black.

**.1.**

"I want this city, Klaus," someone was saying, their words catching in his ear, tickling his skin.

Klaus shifted, his chin pressed against his sternum. He tried moving his wrists, but they wouldn't budge. A slow burn spread across his flesh when he pulled.

_Vervain_. He was tied to a chair with vervain-soaked rope.

Brilliant.

"You abandoned it because of your melodramatic daddy issues," the voice continued, and it sounded familiar. And it smelt of copper, as if they had dropped a penny in their mouth and sucked hard. "It doesn't need you anymore. It's mine."

Klaus opened his eyelids slowly, light blasting his eyeballs. His whole body throbbed and burned. Lifting his head, he watched Marcel pace back and forth in front of him.

They were alone in a small room, a single window filtering the fading sunlight.

How long had he been unconscious?

Was Caroline missing him? Gnawing her fingernails, praying for him to come home safe?

Or had she run off back to Virginia. Sick of waiting for him.

"Don't you get that?" Marcel snapped, taking little notice that Klaus had awoken. "All of this talk about Hayley being New Orleans' queen, of your unborn child saving us all from the depths of hell—it was all bullshit! And now they're both gone and all you're left with is a brother who doesn't love you anymore and a chick too stupid to realise you're worthless."

Marcel halted his pacing. He turned and looked right at Klaus. "You're such a fickle bastard, Klaus. How long are you gonna last with this Caroline, huh? We're not built for romance, you and I. We're made for loneliness. So, run, Klaus. Now. I'll leave this room and you can get free on your own, but I want you out of this city—out of this fucking state."

The vampire twisted around and headed for the single door in the room. He grabbed the knob, rotating his head to catch Klaus' eye.

"I'm going to kill you, I promise you that much. And then I'll kill her," he said, and, in a flash, he was gone.

Klaus waited for a moment, allowing his body to gain back its strength before snapping the ropes holding him to the chair and fleeing the forsaken hideout.

**.1.**

Caroline's warm arms curled around his shoulders the moment he entered the house, her breath warm and minty against the skin of his neck. He stood in the doorway, frozen, his bones still recovering, as she held onto him, breathing in his scent.

He did not wrap her in his arms. Crush her against his chest. Thank her for still being there, waiting for him.

He did not tell her that it was all her fault. That because she snuck out of the house and confided in Camille, all of their lives were in danger.

He did not tell her he loved her. He did not kiss her until their clothes disappeared and their bodies fused together.

He just stood there, too frightened to move.

"Where the hell were you?" She asked, not pulling herself off of him. "I was worried."

Klaus wasn't used to this. People worrying about him. _Caroline _worrying about him. For so long, he admired her from afar, believed her to be the only creature on earth immune to his charm. And then she came to him in the middle of the night with a suitcase, and she crashed into his life. And she _worried _about him.

And maybe, just maybe, she _loved _him.

"I got caught up. Nothing important," he told her when she finally unravelled from him.

Caroline surveyed him intently, her eyes catching on the dust covering his jeans and shirt. He made sure to cover his chaffed wrists.

Sometimes he wished he wasn't an Original. His emotions were so heightened. He felt with all of his ashen soul. Any other day and those foolish vampires wouldn't have brought him down, but running on loop through his mind as he laid on the ground were images of Caroline, bloodied and cold. He had choked on fear, and Marcel had taken advantage of that. Of his weakness.

He could tell Caroline wanted to kiss him—she always did this thing where her eyes grazed his face, landing firmly on his lips, when she wanted to kiss him—but he shuffled away from her and pointed to the staircase, his other hand ruffling his hair.

"Are you packed?" He asked, cursing the slight tremble in his voice. "We need to leave right away."

Caroline's face fell. Her lower lip caught between her teeth and she puckered her eyebrows. "Um, yeah. Should I meet you outside? I've already said bye to Elijah."

Klaus nodded, knowing it would only take him one minute to pack his suitcase and say farewell to his older brother. "I'll see you in a couple of minutes. Stay on the front porch, out of sight," he commanded lowly.

She nodded and left without saying a word, and he wondered when she turned into such a submissive person.

But, really, she wasn't a submissive person. She was babying him, because he was broken and she was desperate to mend him. Even if it meant ridding herself of her outrageous stubbornness.

Even when it was _him _who was supposed to be mending _her_.

Niklaus Mikaelson was not cracked, splintered on the ground for the whole world to see. He was strong. The strongest beast in all the world.

But he knew what it meant to lose things, and each time he lost something another piece of him chipped away. And if he allowed Caroline to be taken from him, he would crumble into dust. Into nothingness. So, he would allow Caroline to glue him together. Eventually, he would allow her access to his heart—without pliers this time—so she could fix that too.

Eventually.

Tonight, though, they needed to run.

He met Elijah on the landing outside his and Caroline's bedroom once his bag was packed, filled with a few t-shirts and jeans and one coat and one book. One journal, one pen. One sketchbook, an entire pack of smoky charcoal.

"Brother." Elijah nodded solemnly. "Are you prepared for this?"

"For what?"

Klaus was expecting Elijah to spout the dangers of war.

Tell him how selfish he was being escaping with Caroline when it would be safer for him to let her leave on her own.

Shout at him, because they were all going to die, and it was all his fault. Because Caroline came for him, and he would not speak to her so she spoke to Camille instead. And now they were all going to die.

But Elijah surprised him. He said, "Are you prepared for what you are doing with Caroline?"

Irrational anger spiked his blood at his brother's careless utterance of Caroline's name.

"What are talking about, Elijah? I'm in no mood for riddles," he growled.

He'd left Caroline for too long alone outside. Anything could have happened to her.

He needed to leave. Immediately.

"You love her," his brother said firmly, and Klaus opened his mouth to disagree, but Elijah rushed along. "You love her and now she is in danger. Niklaus, this is an unpredictable, treacherous game you are playing with Marcel. He will not stop until you are defeated, and he will take her no matter where you two are. Just to watch you suffer. Are you truly prepared for this? For losing the only girl you've ever fully given yourself to?"

Ha! He had not fully given himself to Caroline. She still knew only minuscule parts of his disturbed mind.

"Do you want to know what Marcel told me today?" He asked, moving his suitcase over his shoulder. Klaus leaned against the wall and crossed his legs at the ankles, watching Elijah's face pull into confusion. "He told me you didn't love me anymore."

Elijah sighed. "Niklaus—"

"—No, brother," Klaus said, shaking his head. "He told me you didn't love me. And I know he isn't right. We're brothers. We're _blood_, you and I. Marcel may have travelled with us for a long time, but I know you love me. And for a long time I thought I was only capable of loving my family, because I thought you were the only ones capable of loving me."

Klaus pushed off the wall and approached his brother. He placed his hand on Elijah's shoulder, sorrow sinking like a boulder in his gut. He did not know if this was to be the last time they spoke.

Originals' were strong, but Marcel was fuelled by anger and a need for revenge. He had vampires and werewolves and witches lined by his side. If they attacked, Elijah would be helpless. Just as he had been back in the hideout.

Releasing Elijah's shoulder and dropping eyes to the floor, Klaus focused on his shoes. They were old, like him. Black and scuffed and a perfect fit. A gift from Caroline at his birthday, along with a kiss on his lips that he could still taste.

"Then I met Caroline, and everything changed," he said, unsure why exactly he was sharing this story. He continued staring at his feet. "I can't explain it, brother, but I must go with her."

The brother's stood in silence for long seconds, stewing in misery and regret.

"You'll be safe with her, Niklaus," Elijah said. "You'll be safe together."

Klaus looked up at his big brother and lifted his lips in a half-hearted smirk. "Perhaps," he said, starting his trek down the stairs.

He saluted Elijah on his way, and Elijah gave him a rare smile in return.

Outside, Caroline waited for him in the shadows. She was silent when he took her hand, but he nearly let out a low groan as a small tremor ran up his arm as he touched her. They walked to his car quickly and she allowed him to open her door for her.

She was too good to him.

"How are we getting to Maine?" She questioned as he took his seat beside her on the driver's side.

Klaus started the car and flipped on the radio, searching for a classic rock station. He found one and shifted his attention to Caroline's beautiful face. She was smiling at him patiently, as if she didn't know the danger that lay ahead.

He was not good enough to her. He was going with her when he should let her go without him. He was making her a target, marking her precious body with a big red dot.

"We're going to fly," he said, and he reversed the car out of the driveway.

**.1.**

Klaus watched the fascination sparkle in Caroline's eyes as he switched off the rental car, leaving the headlights on so she could see the view clearer. It was a beautiful night in Bar Harbor. Chilled wind rocked the car gently and the sound of waves crashing against the rocks to their left brushed his eardrums.

He'd missed this place. He hadn't been in years. The vampire he'd hired to regularly clean the cabin was shocked to hear from him earlier, but promised to be out of the house by the time he and Caroline arrived.

Hearing a gasp, Klaus turned his head to find Caroline staring out of his window at the blue ocean glittering in the moonlight. His lips twisted into a smile. Relief tumbled through his body.

She liked it.

"I've never been to Maine," she whispered, leaning closer to the window.

The car was small, a newer model of the Honda Civic, and she was _so close _to him that he could smell his shampoo in her hair.

"I've never been anywhere," Caroline proceeded, "but I never even thought of Maine as somewhere I'd like to go. It's beautiful." She sounded wonderstruck. Breathless, eyes glued to the scrambling waves.

Klaus had seen the view here countless times. This was one of his many hideaways. A place he visited when he needed an escape. Nobody had ever come with him, not even his family.

He was sure it meant something great that he was bringing along Caroline, but this was the first place that came to his mind when he heard Marcel knew about her. Marcel didn't know it existed, that was the sole reason he'd hauled them here. Not because he wanted to share yet another piece of himself with her.

Caroline's gaze shifted, her blue eyes finding his in the darkness. He held his breath as she moved to study his face. He knew she would find the bits of bloody skin hiding behind his stubble, but he wasn't prepared for her touch. Slowly, she lifted her hand and trailed her fingers down his neck, following a streak of dried blood.

Her eyebrows pulled above her nose, creasing her forehead. He could not think straight.

"What happened?" She asked, her breath blowing smoke across his lips.

"Nothing you need to worry about," he said quietly. He looked away from her haunting eyes. "We need to get in the house."

He heard Caroline's sad exhale, another reminder that she was not happy with how little he gave away. Why did he think Caroline Forbes would be okay with his silence? Why did it take listening to her conversation with the Ripper for him to realise she would _never _be satisfied being shoved in the dark?

"Right, in the house. Is it yours?" She said, dropping her hand.

Klaus nodded and got out of the car, cursing himself for being so foolish as to fall for this bubbly creature. He went to the passenger side, expecting maybe to see her waiting for him, but she'd already hopped out and was gathering her suitcase in her hand.

"After you." Caroline waved her hand in front of her toward the house and he stifled a smile, following the path of her sweeping fingers.

Klaus wasn't surprised when the door opened without needing to be unlocked. He'd had a witch throw some spell over it, banning all but those he allowed entry. Inviting Caroline inside, he set their things on the ground by the door, focusing on Caroline's reaction to the space.

"It's small," she noted, sounding mildly shocked. She peeked at him over her shoulder, an almost-coy smile painted across her lips. "I expected something bigger."

He could probably find a rude joke in that statement, but he held his tongue and tilted his head to the side. "Why's that?"

"I don't know." The baby vampire shrugged. The cloth of her blue t-shirt—had he _ever _seen her in a plain t-shirt before?—crinkled, revealing her creamy shoulders. His tongue longed to lave her skin, taste her once more. "You just seem like a guy who's compensating for something. You always seek out the largest houses."

Following Caroline into the tiny bedroom at the end of the one-hallway cabin, Klaus asked, "What exactly is it I'm compensating for?"

"Not telling. You wouldn't like my answer," she murmured.

Klaus watched Caroline perch on the double bed, her fingertips coating the red duvet cover. He cautiously moved to sit next to her. The bed dipped under his weight.

He studied the graceful way Caroline's fingers brushed the fabric, wishing momentarily it was his chest she was touching. His waist. His hair. Anything but the damn sheets.

"Why wouldn't I like your—"

"—I like this room," she said, shutting him down completely.

Obviously, the topic of his supposed compensation was not to be discussed. He tried not to let her evasiveness anger him, instead observing the bedroom. It was an entirely wooden cabin, with a mere five windows. No living room, no family room, no television. There was a small kitchen next to the entrance, a bathroom on the way to the bedroom. The only thing that fit in this room other than the bed was a one-man desk that matched the wood of the home.

"You didn't build this place, did you?" Caroline asked.

"No. I found it, abandoned, maybe a century ago."

"And your _enemy_, Marcel…he doesn't know about it?"

Klaus looked down at Caroline. She wasn't much shorter than him. Only three inches, if that. But there were times he looked at her and caught just how small she was. Because she was young. So young. It was almost morally wrong for him to be so attracted to her. The world was still new in her eyes. There were countries she'd never visited. Food she'd never tasted. People she'd never met.

She was small, compared to him. A child. Frightened of the monsters in the closet.

"No, love. Elijah doesn't even know about this place," he assured her. "Come on, we should probably tuck in for the night. It was a long flight."

He stood and held out his hand for Caroline to take. She watched it with wary eyes.

"Will we both fit in this bed?" She asked dubiously.

Klaus, somehow, found it in himself to crack a smirk. "Probably not, but it's worth a try."

Placing her delicate hand in his, Caroline allowed Klaus to pull her up. And they remained motionless, hand-in-hand, eyes locked, hearts thrumming through their palms. And he felt alive, right then, with that spark of _something_ running through his body.

That was one thing he loved about Caroline Forbes, out of the many things he had never taken the time to dissect. She reminded him of the hummingbird. She made him feel _alive_.

And he loved her for that.

* * *

><p>Thankfully, the door to the cabin didn't creak like it used to and he was able to sneak out of the house without waking Caroline. Sleep was not kind enough to grace his presence—not that he was surprised, with everything going on at the moment—so Klaus decided to leave the warm comfort of his blonde companion and watch the sunrise.<p>

Outside, the sky hummed a pale blue. It was six in the morning, middle of winter. Maine was a gorgeous place this time of year. Bare trees littered the wilderness surrounding the water. He could hear blue jays screeching their horrid songs, woodpeckers _tap-tap-tap_ping away at the bark, searching for their breakfast.

Klaus found his way to the shoreline. Unlike much of Maine—and very similar to England—the strip of beach by his cabin was bordered by heavy, smooth rocks. Klaus spotted a large grouping of big stones that waded deep into the ocean and sat, leaning back on his hands, tilting his head back to look up at the sky.

It was not often that Niklaus found peace. Too often there was too much happening for him to relax. And though he was in the middle of one of the greatest battles he would probably ever have to face, the Maine air—coating him in its chilled wind—seeped beneath his skin and calmed him. Caroline was safe, for now. Hidden from Marcel's all-seeing eyes. He could breathe finally, think of ways to stop Marcel and his huge army.

The boy had weak spots. They were not evident, but he knew of them.

Klaus' biggest problem was not discovering Marcel's Achille's heel, though. It wasn't a matter of scheming or of plotting. All Klaus had to do was drive a stake into Marcel's chest. He just wasn't sure how to do such a thing. Not that he hadn't found himself in this situation before; he'd killed thousands of supposed friends without thinking.

Klaus knew Marcel's weaknesses, that wasn't the issue. The issue was Marcel knew his. And that made everything more complicated.

They were evenly matched, him and Marcel. Maybe not strength-wise, but Marcel had thousands of supernatural's aiding him. Klaus was cunning, yes—but Marcel was too. They were both clever, both driven. Their goal was the same. New Orleans. And, if anything, Marcel had the upper hand. Because Camille had led him to Caroline, and what would Klaus _not do_ to protect her?

Hearing rocks shift behind him, Klaus turned his head and saw Caroline approaching. She'd dressed in one of his old Henley's that reached her thighs, black pants covering her legs. The light blue hue of his shirt brought out the colour in her eyes. Seeing him watching she gave a small flick of her wrist, coming to sit beside him on the rock.

He did not protest. The nearness of her body eased his mind

"It's so pretty," she sighed, daringly perching her head on his shoulder.

Klaus froze briefly, but soon that same spark was back, fuelling him, and he could not find it in himself to turn her away. He followed her gaze, flitting his attention to the sky once again. The sun peaked through the trees farthest from them as it began to climb from the depths of the sea, bathing the world in orange.

"I can see why you left the bed," Caroline murmured distractedly. She was fully focused on the sun's rays, their splashing colour brightening her pale face.

She looked beautiful. More beautiful than the sunrise.

"Once, while I was here, out there," he said, reaching his hand out and pointing to the wide stretch of water in front of them, "I saw a whale—a massive humpback whale. I was in a little canoe, fishing, not expecting to get much. And then it started in my direction. Gorgeous creature, just swimming lazily along the surface of the water. It was a rainy day, but I could see something small moving beside her. As they got closer to where I was, I realised it was her baby."

Klaus looked down at Caroline, feeling her eyes pirouetting over his face, scrutinising him.

He didn't know where the story was coming from. Why he was choosing now to tell it. Why he was telling it at all. He just wanted to share it, with Caroline. Make her aware that he still possessed some of his humanity, and that he needed her to know of its existence. Because for years she'd looked at him with disgust. Only recently had she changed her stripes. He needed to be sure they wouldn't change back.

"I told you about the hummingbird," he went on, ignoring his inner monologue, "that it was the only time in my life as a vampire that I ever desired to be human once more. Maybe that's true, but watching those two whales, the calf relying so heavily on the mother…it shifted my world view. It was just the two of them, the mother and the baby, and they were so peaceful. I think I've been searching for that tranquility since then. The ability to effortlessly glide beneath the water's surface, thinking only of my next breath."

Caroline didn't comment on the tale, and Klaus was glad for it. Her head stayed on his shoulder, temple digging into his flesh.

The sun continued its trek into the sky. Klaus watched Caroline's blue ring sparkle on her index finger and lifted his hand to hers, bringing it up to his eye level so he could examine the jewel.

He somehow managed to ignore how _good _it felt to be holding a piece of Caroline.

"Klaus," she whispered, sounding almost desperate.

Continuing to study her ring, Klaus mumbled, "Hmm?"

Caroline snatched her hand away, and for an awful moment Klaus thought he'd done something wrong. That she'd realised what a huge mistake she'd made coming to him, running with him to his silly little cabin in the middle of nowhere. But then she sat up straight and clasped his face between her two dainty hands, forcing him to look directly at her.

Her eyes flickered to his mouth, and before he could think, she kissed him. Slowly she moved her lips, coaxing him to follow her lead. And he did, a slave to her touch. He draped his mouth over hers, twisting his body at an odd angle and circling his arms around her waist.

She was warm against him, tasting of everything good in the world. Everything he wanted. And it was a gentle kiss—the type of kiss he thought he wasn't capable of, because in this moment he wasn't asking for anything. He wasn't trying to escape from his problems. He was simply moving his mouth in time with Caroline's, enjoying being this close to her.

"I love you," she whimpered, breaking away.

Hearing those three words he wanted so badly to pull her back, but she kept her distance, thumbs brushing his cheeks.

"And I know it's problematic, considering this Marcel guy now wants to kill me because I love you," she said, "but God, I can't help it. And I know, I _know_, you feel the same way. I've known for years, and I'm sorry it took so long for me to find you."

His heart was heavy in his chest. It _thumped_ harshly in his ears, so loud he wasn't sure he'd heard her right. She was looking at him earnestly, eyes brimming with water. And he didn't want to see her cry, so he closed the gap between them once more, unafraid of how stupid he was being, falling _in love_ with a young vampire like Caroline Forbes.

Klaus effortlessly rushed them into the cabin, throwing her onto the bed when they reached the room. He laid on top of her, holding his body above hers.

And he kissed her. He kissed her until their clothes disappeared. Until their bodies fused together. Until Caroline cried into his mouth, breasts heaving against his bare chest. He kissed her until he couldn't think. Until she was whispering into his skin, fingernails dragging ribbons of blood down his back.

**.1.**

He zigzagged his fingers down her naked arm, noticing how soft it was. He'd forgotten how soft it was.

He'd forgotten a lot of things about her in the months since she'd come to him. The colour of her hair, for instance, was not just one shade of blonde. It was many shades, intertwined. Roped together. And the silkiness of her mouth, of her inner thighs.

He'd forgotten too much. Things he hoped he'd never be allowed to forget again, because he planned on reminding himself of them every day.

Klaus heard a muffled buzzing noise circulate the room. Frowning, he disentangled himself from Caroline's sleeping body and climbed out of bed. After he'd put on his trousers he went searching for the buzzing, emptying the contents of his suitcase.

His breath hitched in his throat when he saw the source of the vibration—the burner phone he'd brought with him. Elijah was the only person who knew the number.

"What?" He snapped upon answering.

"Niklaus, something has happened," Elijah said, sounding collected despite the speed with which he spoke.

Klaus felt his throat closing up, wondering what on earth could have gone wrong in the day since he left. Just to reassure himself, he stepped closer to the bed, checking to make sure Caroline was still breathing softly. He closed his eyes in relief when he saw strands of her hair blowing around her face.

"What's happened?"

Elijah paused.

"Well?" Klaus barked.

Sighing, his older brother said, "Marcel has Rebekah."

"_What_? What the fuck is she doing in New Orleans?" Klaus asked, exiting the bedroom.

Christ, this wasn't happening. What was Marcel playing at?

"I do not know, Niklaus," Elijah admitted, "but I suggest you come down and figure it out. This is your fight, not mine. Not Rebekah's."

Leave? He couldn't do that. It would mean abandoning Caroline.

"Caroline would understand," his brother said, making Klaus wonder if he'd spoken out loud. "Tell her to stay put. Make sure she knows how absolutely dangerous it would be if she left."

Expecting Caroline to stay away from danger was practically the same as expecting an untrained dog not to eat the food splattered on the floor.

But he had to try. Because his sister needed him, and if he could make Caroline stay here in Maine, away from harm, he would be okay. Not okay, really. He'd be worried out of his mind. But he'd know she was safer than if she followed him.

Klaus didn't respond to Elijah. He hung up the phone and went quietly into the bedroom, slipping on his shirt and grabbing the notebook out of his bag. Scribbling a note to Caroline warning her against leaving the cabin, Klaus pinned it to the desk. He almost added an _I love you_ to the end, but he was not ready yet to tell her those sorts of things.

He walked to the end of the bed, memorising every curve of her body. He had entire sketchbooks filled with pictures of her, but nothing beat staring at the real thing. And God, maybe this would be the last time he'd be able to look at her.

Clenching his hands into fists, Klaus left the room—the house. He closed the door behind him, praying to _someone _or _something_ that Caroline would be safe. That she would be able to love him still after all of this. After leaving her and not being brave enough to beg her in person not to come after him.

As he stumbled over rocks to get to the car, a bird flew by. He whipped his head to follow its movements, watching as it came back around, hovering just in front of him. Red feathers coated his neck, his green wings fluttering quicker than Klaus' hybrid eyes could follow. A ruby-throated hummingbird. Klaus heard its heart beating in its breast, taunting him.

Klaus blinked, and when he opened his eyes, the bird had disappeared.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thoughts?

Fun fact: the whale story is a true story. While I was vacationing in Maine years and years ago I got to see a baby humpback whale with its mama. One of the most breathtaking sights I've ever seen.


End file.
